


Making Forty

by mayachain



Series: birthday!verse [9]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Backstory, Birthday, Families of Choice, First War with Voldemort, Friendship, Grief, M/M, Post-Canon, Pre-Canon, Werewolves, cross-generation friendship
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-03-10
Updated: 2010-03-10
Packaged: 2017-10-14 14:49:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/150428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayachain/pseuds/mayachain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Being among friends is all Remus Lupin has ever needed for his birthday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Making Forty

**March 10th, 1970**

'I wish I were dead,' Remus thought wearily, knowing better than to even try to open his eyes. There was a fire crackling in the background, soft sheets were wrapped around him, and he could feel Mum's hand cool against his forehead. 'I wish I were _dead,_ ' he repeated to himself, exhaustedly breathing through far too slowly fading pain.

Something was _different_.

"Where's Dad?" he croaked, his voice so pitiful in his ears that he wasn't certain Mum could make sense of it. When she didn't answer immediately, he was gripped by panic that something had _happened_ this time, something had gone _wrong_ , _it_ had gotten loose, he'd hurt someone.

Cool fingers stroked around new cuts on his face, made it easier to breathe. "I don't know what to do with him," Mum whispered, careful about Remus' sensitive ears. "'Wait,' I said. 'In a few days, he can come with you,' I said. But does he listen to me?"

And Remus remembered, could see the book lying on his desk without opening his eyes, its worn-out pages, the title barely visible on the cover: _Hogwarts: A History_. Mum hadn't wanted him to have it, had been afraid that the place where Mum and Dad had made dozens of friends would turn out to be a false hope. But Dad had _promised_ , and he wasn't _here,_ which meant that it was happening right now: _On your tenth birthday, I will talk to Professor Dumbledore._

 

 **March 10th, 1980**

"What a party," Remus let out when James and Lily had disappeared through the Floo. Peter had excused himself an hour earlier, waving the proof of his recent employment around with the same mixture of fear and pride as he once had his essays.

Sirius was passed out on the couch. James had offered to take him off Remus' hands, but the Potters - _the Potters_ , plural, that never got old - had enough with Lily's morning sickness and no need to deal with Sirius' hangover come morning, too.

A mite unsteady on his feet himself, Remus threw a warming blanket over his friend. He made a half-hearted stab at cleaning up the mess, but quickly put his wand away when a muttered " _Scourgify_ " almost made the sink explode.

'What a party,' he thought again. It _had_ been a good party, worthy, as Prongs had said, of the youngest of the Marauders turning twenty. For the first time in weeks, they'd had _fun_ , eaten more than was probably good for them and _laughed_ , and it had been nice, doing it this way, just the five of them, in private.

For a few hours, the world outside had not reached them. For a few hours, James had stopped wondering why Dumbledore wanted to meet with them, and not once had _that_ look crossed Lily's face when someone mentioned Snape's name. For a few hours, they had even forgotten the absences that would have made themselves known if Remus had gone all out like Sirius had, if he had invited a wider range of friends.

 _To friendship,_ they had toasted each other, again and again. The world outside might be marred by Dark Marks in the sky, but Remus knew, _knew_ that standing together, they could and would survive anything.

 

 **March 10th, 1990**

 _Dear Wormtail,_

 _You must tire of receiving one of these from me every year, but it seems as if I am still not ready to let go._

 _I am writing these words from the library i Heidelberg. It is to my great shame that I must admit to frequenting these halls as much for the warmth and the free coffee as for the invaluable information. However, the knowledge I have gained since coming here – I imagine you would find it daunting, my friend, but to me it is a source of inspiration that keeps me going._

 _Thirty years. I wonder what kind of party you, Prongs ~~and the traitor~~ would have thrown me? I can only imagine what you and Lily would have thought of the way I spent my last birthday. _ Grow wiser with the years _my father used to say, which is why I am here, not in possession of a single drop of Firewhiskey, waiting for the librarian to uncover the priceless first edition of_ “Tiefen des Waldes“ _for me._

 _When will you return to Brittain, Moony? you ask. I catch myself thinking about it sometimes, but since you require my honesty – I still do not know._

 _Molly Weasley sent me a cake. I am grateful that I discovered that she does this for all the surviving Order members; I would hate to be angry at her for pitying me. As it is, I will be able to wake up for at least a week and think,_ I will not starve today. __

 _I must bid you farewell, Wormtail, for Herr Uhrenmacher has just emerged from the vault._

 _Hoping the afterlife treats you well,  
as ever, your friend,  
Moony._

 _PS: What colour of socks this year, you wonder? Why, Professor Dumbledore seems to have taken a liking to pink and yellow._

 

 **March 10th, 2000**

"We'll be taking Teddy now, then," Neville said, and it took Remus an embarrassingly long minute to figure out what he meant. By the time he managed to sit up in the sofa, his son was already scooped up in Draco's arms.

"Bye!" Teddy waved excitedly, nearly drowning out Draco's more measured "See you tomorrow."

"Don't do anything we wouldn't do," Neville winked before all three boys disappeared into the portkey that would take them directly to the Manor.

Silence reigned for a moment. Then Remus slumped back into the cushions and asked, "Did they really just give us the first evening alone since... well, since you've been here?“

"That appears indeed to be the case," Severus replied, the expression on _his_ face not astonished at all. Remus even thought there was a hint of a smile on his face as he surveyed what their departed guests had left when they had cleaned up the table.

"Sorry I've been so tired all day," Remus yawned when Severus lowered himself onto the edge of the sofa, a half-filled cup in his hand. He considered having another cup of tea, but this particular spot was growing increasingly comfortable.

"You are a war hero turning forty," Severus said in a slightly stilted voice. "It is perhaps natural, if ill-advised, that your friends would celebrate the event as if you were half your age."

"Not all my friends," Remus murmured, turning his head until his cheek was leaning against Severus' knee. "Why do you think I made them have the party yesterday?" He sighed contently when he felt a hand in his hair.

"Clearly," Severus said, drawing the word out, "to give Draco and Neville the opportunity to manipulate _you_ into manipulating _me_ into fulfilling your most secret, child-inappropriate dreams."

"You may serve as my pillow," Remus muttered, snuggling closer. Giving in to exhaustion, he drifted off into sleep.


End file.
